Innocence and Audacity
by Horyuu
Summary: As a desperate and somewhat jaded princess, Kagome plots to escape from her father's castle...but as circumstances spiral out of control and fate takes over, a certain Hanyou gets in her way. Inu/Kag
1. Default Chapter

Innocence and Audacity  
  
Disclaimer: I own.... *draws a blank*... nada. That should be quite clear to all of you...  
  
Chapter One  
  
All my life, I had known nothing...nothing but boundaries. As the female heir to a traditionally male dominated throne, it was acknowledged by those in charge of my life that I should be kept sheltered. Away from any possible threat, whether it was the hot, untidy kitchen and the burns that I would surely receive, or the spinning wheels, where I could prick my finger or *gasp* break a nail. Above all, I was kept constantly in the castle. The outside world posed far too many dangers, but with these restrictions came great costs, some with results I'm sure were not intended. Because I was so sheltered, I grew up incredibly stubborn and defiant, yearning for the chance to venture outside the castle. Here, I was certain, my life would become worth living. For inside the castle, I had, in essence, no life. I was like a caged thestrel, and the longer I remained imprisoned, the more my spirit yearned for true freedom. My name is Kagome, and this is my story.  
About two years ago, when I was fifteen, my father's kingdom was invaded. Prior to this, I had lived a pathetically quiet life; it's not difficult to imagine why. This invasion and eventual coup d'etat served as a turning point in my existence, for although my country was possessed of a lengthy and decidedly tumultuous history, nothing like this had ever been heard of...or imagined. My father, though ordinarily a grim, relentless fighter and an overbearing father, was rendered weak, brooding and indecisive at the dawn of this war, for the miscreant leading this revolt was his own son. My brother, Sesshomaru.  
At the time of his birth, nearly twenty-one years ago, Sesshomaru was lauded as the salvation of our kingdom. My mother had previously been barren, and the king had all but abandoned hope at ever procuring a suitable heir. His birth, and my own six years later, came as quite a surprise to our aging parents, but my birth, though blessed in terms of the kingdom's welfare, was also tinged with sorrow. My mother, tired and sick with the trials of raising my rebellious six-year-old brother, took her own life soon after my birth. Sesshomaru, as the firstborn son and rightful heir, was looked upon as the last hope for our frail land, but even from the age of six, Sesshomaru was his own person. He refused to anticipate or prepare for his reign, or acknowledge that he would one day be king. The one skill that he chose to cultivate proved to be the art of the sword. My father, seizing upon this as proof of his potential, proceeded to train him in the handling and practice of a myriad of weaponry, calling upon renowned samurai to become his teacher. This later proved to be a grave mistake.  
Around this time, I'd decided I'd about had it. No more cross- stitching sock monkeys, taking silverware etiquette lessons and getting all decked out just to sit around... cross-stitching. Much to my chagrin, my father and his assorted advisors were blaming my restlessness and defiance on my age. Adolescence had hit, and puberty was rearing its ugly head, but it was clearly much more than that. My useless life and meaningless existence seemed to be a greater strain than any life of danger and turmoil, and my thoughts and behavior reflected this belief. I resolved that this would not, could not, continue, and I devised a plan, confiding my intentions to my only friend, Lady Sango. The only female residing in the castle, Sango had been orphaned at an early age and was now dependent entirely on my father, her uncle, for protection, and I liked it that way. Although she was a few years older than me, Sango seemed to understand my innermost feelings and deepest fears, so I had no qualms with informing her of my plan, and later, asking her to help me with it. I knew that I needed, just once, to see the outside world, even if it meant disappointing my father and losing his trust forever. And at the age of fifteen, this need overwhelmed me, until I could think of nothing else. The relationship between my father and me had always been mediocre at best, and mutual trust dubious, so I doubted whether he would even notice that I was gone, and with that in mind, I began plotting my escape. 


	2. Chapter 2

Innocence and Audacity  
  
Chapter 2  
  
AN: Hope you like this so far! I'd like to thank my TIP roomie, Aparna, for allowing me to use 'I and A', the title of a piece of music she wrote, for this fic.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't even own the TITLE!  
  
I suppose I'm getting a little ahead of myself, though. I'll go back to right before Sesshomaru invaded, when my father had been his most overbearing, and when everything was getting to be too much for me to endure.  
"Please, father, if I could just take the morning off, spend it outside in the garden.I'm so sick of needlework, and it's such a beautiful day." "I said no, and I meant it! Now go to your lessons, you impudent girl! I need to attend to important matters!" I stared at him, in a state of shock, feeling as though my world was teetering over the edge of a cliff, about to plunge into disaster. I loved my father, though I had always been second best and just a girl in his eyes. He had always made it clear that he respected me for my intelligence and sharp wit, and though he tired of my willpower, he still seemed to be proud of it, against his better judgement. But now. he had told me to my face that I wasn't important enough to take up his precious time. With my lip quivering, I gave him my most deadly glare, turned on my heels, and fled, struggling to keep from weeping. My thoughts flew to my only conceivable source of comfort: Sango. She would be my solace. She would relieve me from my sorrow, and help me determine my course of action.  
Sango was holed up in her room, cross-stitching. Unlike me, she actually seemed to enjoy it, much to the delight of our teachers and nurses.  
"Good Morning, Kagome!" was her cheerful salutation. Once she saw the look on my face, she stopped sewing, choosing instead to jump up and embrace me.  
"Oh, Kagome.what happened? Was it your father again?"  
"He's always been strict, but lately.he's been downright cruel to me. I don't know why it bothers me so much, but Sango, he's the only family I've got left! And I'm so tired of being here. You're the only one I can really talk to, but the only time we get to talk is at night, before bed. During the day, we're attending pointless, pointless lessons.the teachers are all monks! They believe girls should be kept subdued and in submission; seen and not heard, for heaven's sake! All day long, the idiotic 'ladies' in here talk incessantly about catching husbands and looking hot in their new gowns, and these are the people I'm supposed to be friends with. My father hates it that I'm not exactly like them. I just can't be that. I'm not a perfect little porcelain doll!"  
"It can't be that bad, sweet. Your father does love you; it's undeniable. Aren't you overreacting just a little? I'll always be here for you to talk to, and the life of a princess is something any one of those ladies would give up their favorite gowns for!"  
"I know I sound really ungrateful, but it's not just that. I can't say anything if it's not about dresses or marriages, and all the while, the kingdom is failing. I know it, though no one says anything to me. Father grows grayer and more wan by the day, and I hear the servants talking. They say that servant work is actually the only work anyone can find, and outside the palace, the crops aren't growing, and children are dying. They say that it could be a curse, a plague on the house of Higurashi!" With this last outburst, I collapsed on the bed, weeping.  
"Shush, it's okay, it's going to be alright." Sango attempted to comfort me, hugging me and allowing me to cry. Eventually I was able to sit up and dry my eyes. Turning to my dearest friend, I realized something strange: far from looking consoling, Sango's expression was one of extreme confusion and turmoil, as though she was having an incredible internal altercation with herself. She was definitely trying to make up her mind about something, something important. Finally, she turned to me, and remarked, "Your situation's much worse than I thought it was, and all this trouble is clearly taking a toll on you. Maybe I have a solution. I know you can't continue to live this way, and maybe it's not the right thing to do, but I think you should leave the palace." "WHAT? Do you have any idea what my father would DO to me if I were caught??!!!" "Of course I do, but really.what other options do you have? Do you want to continue being a prisoner in your own home?" she replied. Her last response stuck with me after I left her room that night, and continued to vex me over the following week. I desperately wanted to escape, but would that really solve any problems? What about the kingdom, and its problems? I knew that it could be seen as an act of inconceivable selfishness; leaving just as my land entered its darkest times. Finally, I came to a conclusion: I would sneak out of the castle early one morning, and return later on that day, so that no one would even guess that I had ever left, and so that I could see what the outside world was truly like. I would determine a better course of action after I knew what waited for me outside. Deciding which day to leave, however, proved to be a bigger task than I thought it would be: I would have to choose a day on which everyone in the castle was madly busy, and would be far too flustered to notice the absence of one silly little princess. I settled on the following Sunday. One of the aforementioned and ridiculously silly ladies of the castle was to be married to an equally moronic but rather handsome knight, and everyone, including my father, was involved. My role was miniscule and insulting: stay out of the way while the adults took care of everything. Though it may have been belittling, it was also perfect for my plans. I told Sango that I was ready, and we proceeded to make preparations. On Sunday morning, a few hours after dawn, I lay in wait.literally. An old trunk of Sango's had been secured; its legs and one of its hinges had been smashed. We were ready. I climbed into the chest and Sango shut the lid. We had already informed a handy but dull footman that it needed repairs, and he had eagerly agreed to take the trunk to town for the "two pretty princesses". Being rich does have its perks. I was about to find out whether they were worth sacrificing for freedom. I heard Sango remark, "I'd like to have it back by the end of the day, please", and knew that the footman had arrived to collect his cargo. I was ready for this. As I was carried out inside the trunk, my last waves of foreboding melted away. Though I wasn't completely sure I was doing the right thing, I knew that I was about to find out what real life was like; living, unsheltered and without restraints. 


	3. Chapter 3

Innocence and Audacity  
  
Chapter 3  
  
AN: Here's a big, huge thanks to my four reviewers!!!!! I really appreciate the fact that you took the time to read my stuff and critique it. Sorry if there's been any more; all I can say is, as of right now, there haven't been. Thanks again! Anyone else who's reading this: I'd love it if you'd review. Go ahead and flame. I can take the heat (I think). Personally, I think my writing could use a lot of improvement, and I'd like ideas on how to do just that.  
  
Disclaimer: This is a fan-fiction site. Ergo, this whole disclaimer thing is unnecessary.  
  
The trudge through the marketplace felt endless. I guess it would, though: the view from inside a wooden box isn't exactly the best, and the footman...well, the only polite thing I can say about the way he carried Sango's fragile trunk is that he obviously didn't know it was carrying anything alive. But hey, I'm not gonna nit-pick too much. The important thing was that I was actually in the marketplace. My excitement began to overwhelm me...  
  
  
  
Soon, my trunk was set down in what I presumed to be the shop. I heard the footman fill the shopkeeper in on the gritty details of the trunk's damages... shopkeeper? How was I going to get past him? I hadn't really thought that far ahead when I was planning this little trip, which was starting to seem like a really bad idea. Why hadn't I planned this out? What to do...what to do...the footman had left, and judging by the sounds of his feet, the shopkeeper was coming closer and closer...Okay, I was so busted...   
  
  
  
*Flashback* "Take this money with you, and if you get into any trouble, remember to use it!" Sango, sounding more like a mother hen than ever, had saved me again. Bribery could be a quick and easy ticket out of this place... Suddenly, it happened. The trunk had been opened, and the shopkeeper was peering down at me with more than a little confusion in his beady, languid eyes. The rolls of flab around his face and hands shifted as he reached down to help me out of the trunk, and he gave me a rather unctuous smile as he purred, "Well, well, well. We certainly got more than we bargained for when we agreed to fix this trunk, didn't we, little missy?" Perfect. He seemed just the sort to accept my terms...or any sort, for that matter. He was actually a little creepy, in his red satin kimono bulging dangerously at the sides from too much flab, eyeing me as if I was nothing more than a succulent little morsel for him to devour. But I didn't have time to think about that now.   
  
  
  
He came closer and closer, reeking of onions, cheap sake and day-old veal. "I'll have to tell your pa, that I will. We can't have no runaways on our city streets. I'll help you out, never you worry, girlie." Judging by his showy, opulent, gaudy shop and clothes, he was wealthy, but he sure talked like a grubber. I would be so happy to get out of here. I opened my mouth, but right before I prepared to give the storekeeper my most sunny smile and a big wad of cash to keep his mouth shut, we were interrupted.   
  
"All right! We've gotcha cornered! Come out wit' your hands up, and bring the wench! An' if you don'...well, let's just say you won't like the new tricks I've learned, old man!" A most peculiar creature had entered the shopkeeper's tent. He was, by the looks of him, about 18 years old, tall and muscular, and basically normal, but for his long, white hair, and what appeared to be dog ears perched jauntily atop his head. Looking closer, I noticed his claws and fangs, which took the place of their more human counterparts. And his eyes... his eyes were dreamy pools of amber, the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen on a man. Dreamy and deep, but at the same time, flashing a dangerous intensity which conveyed his message much more powerfully than the petty threats he was making. He was ready to kill, and for the first time, I feared for my own life. By the way he talked, he was nothing more than a street thug, one that could probably be bought off easily, but his eyes told me not underestimate him.   
  
  
  
I quickly followed the sniveling shopkeeper out into the sunlight of the marketplace (the former was, I might add, not nearly as big and tough when he had this fellow breathing down his neck. Wonder why). Blinking in the intense sun, my eyes scanned the scenery until they spotted something even more vivid: His eyes. Their incandescence burned all the more brightly once he noticed I was staring. Giving me a horrific glare, he stomped over and grabbed the pusillanimous shopkeeper by the sash of his no- longer-so-silky gown.   
  
  
  
"Please don't kill me! Think about my wife and kids, Inu-..." With that, his face was slammed into the dirt, not so much painfully as humiliatingly. "You don't have a wife! An' you're too much of an incredible eyesore and a waste of good space to ever have one! The world will THANK me, for Dionysis's sake, for putting you out of your misery!" With that, he grabbed the shopkeeper by the collar and yanked him up, looking much the worse for wear. Our friend the shopkeeper had a face full of mud, a torn and filthy robe, and a grating, chalky voice, and continued to beg for forgiveness, though it appeared to be fruitless . I had no way of knowing, but the two of them sure seemed to have some sort of unsettled score.   
  
  
  
"Please, master! I'll give you my shop, my first born son-.." Slam. "If you'll just spare my life! This is all a big misunderstanding!" Slam. This went on for about five minutes, with lil' ol' me just watching the bullying from the sidelines, until the white-haired guy finally got tired of slamming the slimy guy's face into the mud. As you can imagine, this took quite a while. White-hair didn't seem to be the sharpest tool in the shed, and he was furious to boot.   
  
  
  
"Ahhh, whatever. I don't got any more time to waste here, pig. This was really just a warning, but I'll be back, to finish you off." I prepared to sneak away, unaware of why I hadn't attempted to earlier. Then, his eyes shifted, over to me. They no longer burned with such an intense hatred, but now, peered at me with a child' curiosity and mischief. Such eyes...one second, they were ablaze with rage, and the next, so childlike and wondering, but yet, so maddening. I didn't have much time to contemplate aesthetics, though...   
  
"Waiiiiiit...I thought you didn't have a wife! You got yourself a little woman, huh?" The shopkeeper still had too much mud in his mouth and fear in his eyes to risk giving the man an answer that he didn't want; he cowered in dread instead. However, I was a different story, and my stupid mouth once again got me in trouble.   
  
  
  
"What are you TALKING about??!! You think I would MARRY that lowlife? I'm gonna get you thrown in jail for what I've seen here today! Trust me, you might want to start running, because once I get to the palace and the king hears about the ruffians that are loose in the marketplace!" Okay, so I was grasping at straws. For one thing, he was the only hoodlum in sight; any friends of his were well-concealed and staying out of trouble. For another, the king wouldn't give a report of bullying a second glance. The kingdom certainly had other things to be worried about. The young man didn't know this, of course, and his eyes took on a more far-away cast as I rambled on. His eyes slid over in the direction of the palace as a smile spread slowly across his countenance. "Yes, the palace. That's exactly where I need to go", he mumbled, more to himself than to us. I'm not even sure if we were intended to hear. I shut up long enough to see him glance around, as if to get his bearings, and then, without warning, he glided away. Well, glided isn't the right word. He sort of jumped on the balls on his feet, and then, once he was airborne, he...for lack of a better word, he soared!  
  
  
  
"Whoa..." Leaving the shopkeeper behind, and with stars in my eyes, I took off for my father's home. Yep, I abandoned all my plans to go the way I had seen the thug going. I knew that something was amiss, and though I didn't like to think about it, I also knew that the young punk would be involved, and not in a good way. No matter what happened, though, this should have been my first clue that I was changing. In just the short encounter I'd had with this dude, he'd rocked my world. Most people don't really have that kind of effect on me. And I didn't really like it, either. 


	4. Chapter 4

Innocence and Audacity  
  
AN: Sorry it's taken so long... I've been really quite busy with life and other annoying technicalities that keep me from writing fan fiction. And I've also had writer's block in a big way! In fact, I still do! So, let's just jump right into this and see what happens!   
  
Ha Ha!  
  
(Please excuse that last little bit of insanity. Continue on with your lives now...or, if you'd prefer, just continue wasting time reading fan fics.)  
  
Oh, yeah. (Insert mindless, pointless, unnecessarily witty almost to the point of being maddening disclaimer here.)  
  
AAN(Another Author's Note): I actually wrote this about a week ago. It was supposed to be longer. As time permits, I'll continue to update, but hey, might as well get this part up while I have it. Sorry!  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Contrary to popular belief, we palace girls aren't really in the best shape ever. Sure, our restraining corsets and even-more-restraining diets keep us sleek and svelte(perfect for the enticement of many a sniveling pig of a suitor), but our muscle definition...well, it's too much of a joke to even dwell on. So by the time I got back to the palace, I was bushed. It didn't help matters that I had taken a path that could politely be described as being off the beaten trail, and full of woodsy scenery and natural splendor. You see, although I had no reason to believe that anyone in the palace even knew I was gone, me appearing at the palace gates would give the guards a bit of an inclination to believe that I wasn't inside anymore. So, yep, I was beat. However, my less than tiptop physical condition did nothing to quell the pounding of my heart. Why was I so intrigued by this roguish, unruly ignoramus? He wasn't even that handsome! But his eyes... I could still feel their intense presence, full of strength as they bored into my mind. And then...there he was. I rounded the last bend of woods and saw him, his features almost completely obstructed by shadow. He appeared to have come in much the same way as I had: unobtrusively, purposely trying to avoid discovery. What was his purpose here? Why was he trying so hard to avoid being noticed? I crouched behind a bush at the edge of the nearby forest and watched him work.   
  
He pulled from beneath the folds of his (admittedly lovely) scarlet, satiny kimono a gardener's trowel and shovel and walked over where the rear chimney began, jutting out of the wall. Counting under his breath, he began to walk backwards. Once he reached 15, he halted, crouched and began to dig. I watched all of this with increasing incredulity; what exactly was he thinking? His methods were much too meticulous for him to be just another crackpot, unless of course the aliens had told him to behave this way for some inexplicable reason. Then, to my astonishment, he unearthed something that made his extraordinary actions unnervingly lucid. It was a trapdoor; dusty, but with its fine, stainless steel hinges and fresh coat of varnish, it was evidently new, and perhaps installed recently for...what purpose? He struggled for a moment to open it. With a resounding creak, the hinges gave, and he was in, vanishing just as soundlessly as he had appeared in the marketplace earlier on.   
  
  
  
What next? Let's recap: I'd broken out of the castle, gotten my first-ever taste of 'civilian life', met a hunk, and watched him break into the castle...all in one morning. All I really wanted to do was take a nap. However... I knew that that was no longer an option. I was involved now, and there was no way I could rest easy knowing that some guy was scurrying around like a common cockroach in the shadows of my home. But...I couldn't just turn him in, could I? I had a feeling that he could cause infinitely more trouble than any bug ever could, but yet...maybe I could handle him on my own. I'd just need to find out exactly what he was doing here, and what he wanted. Strangely, I didn't feel that he was any real danger to me personally. His mannerisms- and eyes- told me that he wasn't afraid to...eliminate...any noted threats, but somehow, I sensed an innate gentleness to his character. There was no way he could hurt me. I just needed to find out what his plan was. So, I crept over to the trap door as unobtrusively as possible and proceeded to enter. I was breaking into my own home...what breed of fool was I?   
  
I didn't have time to worry about that right then. Pulling the trap door shut behind me, I groped blindly through the narrow entrance, struggling to squeeze myself through the opening. And there I was. It wasn't so bad, really. I found myself peering down a long corridor, lit by several wooden torches on its barren, rocky walls. It branched off into 2 other seemingly identical tunnels, although these weren't lit. This passageway had actually not been used for quite a while; the torches were burned down to practically nothing and rocks were strewn haphazardly around the entrance and throughout the tunnels. How had something like this gone unnoticed for so long? Would it continue to remain that way? I definitely did not want to be followed down here, but the trap door was now completely unearthed. It would be all too easy to find, once the wedding was over and the guards returned to their normal posts.   
  
I would utilize the rocks and buy myself some time. I selected a particularly bulky one from a pile of about a half dozen rocks and hefted it, panting heavily as I went, over to the door. And, it wasn't so hard! I could do this! I proceeded to remove more rocks, until the entrance was almost completely barred. Take that, all you palace lords and ladies who told me that true princesses didn't have the strength of a gnat! Hauling up the final one, I started towards the entrance, but was hindered by a sudden blast of fire and sound. Kaboom...and I fell into darkness... 


	5. Chapter 5

Innocence and Audacity  
  
Chapter 5  
  
"Aughhh...my head..." I awoke, feeling majorly hung-over and more than a little amnestic. What had just happened? Don't get me wrong; I remembered the important things, like my name, my favorite color and the hiding place of my favorite binge food(devil's food dumplings, under a loose floorboard in the pantry, where my sadistic dietician couldn't find them), but everything else, like exactly what I was doing here, and where exactly here WAS, was a bit hazy, to say the least. As I sat up and the blood rushed to my head, I slowly began to remember the day's events. Still, that didn't solve my real problem. The world had gone dark. Completely and inexorably dark. Gone was the neat, orderly fairy-tale secret passage, lit by the quaint and quintessential torches on the rocky, mossy walls. Now, I was on my butt surrounded by rubble. And I couldn't see. It was okay. I could handle this. I would just do like the heroes in all those epics did...I used to love to hear those, from Beowulf to Ginji, dreaming of being reckless and aimless, flying along in the breeze like an armored dandelion, stopping only to rescue fair youths and battle nefarious monsters. What would they have done? Wait, I know...they would all be smart enough not to blindly follow an imperfect stranger into such an uncomfortable situation in the first place. There was only one thing to do, really. Tears welled up in my eyes as I tried to figure out what exactly that was, and I surrendered myself to sobs.   
  
A few moments later, I began to feel decidedly ashamed of myself. Why was I crying? Did I think so little of myself? Sitting there, waiting for an absolution, like the ubiquitous damsel-in-distress, someone who always needed someone else to save her? I had metamorphosed into a weak, sniffling, jittery mess, my least favorite kind of person, and over what? Okay, so I was in some sort of tunnel, chasing after some sort of blockhead, in some sort of alternate universe that really couldn't be my world at all. I could figure this out. In the REAL world, I would be drowsily engaged in a mindless lecture on either breakfast room etiquette or the proper thing to say when your uncle's fiancee's cousin's brother's niece from the backwoods of Edo-but-who-might-be-inheriting-a-common-law-throne-so-we -can't-risk-being-offensive comes to visit. I wouldn't be in a secret passage, that, by all rights, shouldn't even exist, and I certainly would not be chasing after some guy like a love-sick loon. Which I was not; I just wanted to make sure my house wasn't in danger. But I digress. The sooner I figured out how to get out of this tunnel, the sooner I could get back to my normal, everyday problems. Somehow, they seemed a lot comfier and cozier at this point.   
  
Investigation seemed to be the most logical course of action. I stood up, dusted myself off as best as I could, and proceeded to walk into the wall. After poking around for a moment, I discovered that I was actually not completely surrounded by an assortment of rocks and rubble. And there was the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel...I only needed to move some rocks, and I would be relatively free and clear. Now, I was back in the entrance of the tunnel. From what I could see around me, it appeared that the main portion of the tunnel had collapsed into itself, while the entrance had remained comparatively secure, and with an extra perk: one torch on its wall remained lit. And when I stood on my tiptoes, I could get it down! So, I would just step through the rubble with my handy new divining medium until I reached the end of the tunnel! I began to mosey though the rugged terrain, seeking the end of the passageway...but, wait...something was wrong. This wasn't going to work. First, I really had to find out what had happened earlier. I didn't want to run into any more...similar mishaps, particularly ones that culminated in my being knocked out.   
  
I gingerly began my trek through the piles of stone, searching for an answer. And, there it was... a smoldering flint, one that could used to light any sort of elementary machine, oven, or...or firework. That had to have been it. I hunted through the debris with my free hand until I found what I was looking for: a recently lit rocket-type firecracker used most predominantly by jesters, naughty children and rogues who sought to conclude their bouts of revelry and drunkenness with a bit of visual stimulation. So, my new friend was a jokester. Well, I wasn't laughing. Not even close. He'd apparently rigged the pile of rock with a makeshift bomb that would detonate when touched. I'd heard of way too many cases concerning that particular firecracker, and its tendency to deliver more than the purchasers' bargained for, to admire his vision and skill in setting it up. And, another thing... my assailant wasn't a fool. He'd have known the possible consequences for constructing and setting off such a bomb if anyone would. What was he so driven for, that he was willing to kill to reach his goal? Perhaps some would write my next move off as foolish, silly or even a gross example of a blind yearning for vengeance, but for me it was unquestionable: I kept following, determined to find out exactly what was going on and why this guy was willing to go so far to achieve his ends.   
  
AN: It'd be great if you'd review. This story might seem like it's moving pretty slowly, but I really wanna get the exposition cleared up before I move into too much unbridled action. Or, at least, that's what I'm going for. 


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